


Stage Three: Attraction

by Kitchyy



Series: The Seven Stages of Rodney's Coming Out Process [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Awkward Dates, Awkwardness, Conversations about sexuality, DADT, First Time, M/M, Movie Night, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 18:02:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitchyy/pseuds/Kitchyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney finds something out about his closest friend that changes him in ways he can't quantify.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stage Three: Attraction

**Stage Three: Attraction**  
  
Rodney's in his blissfully hot shower when it occurs to him that John's smile is nice, and sometimes he likes seeing it.  
  
He freezes and blinks water out of his eyes, then stares at the fancy ancient bathroom tile for a few seconds. The thought bothers him. Enough that it takes him a long time to get to sleep and once there its fitful and restless. It leaves Rodney feeling grouchy, whiney and still confused.  
  
He's most likely just been spending an egregious amount of time with John, he decides. What with being on his gate team, all the senior staff meetings, movie nights and any other activities they do after hours, and Rodney surmises they spend more time with each other than Rodney has with anyone else in a long time.  
  
He doesn't radio John. Instead, Rodney shaves, puts on a drop or two of cologne he brought with him and rationed like crazy, then heads down to the anthropology department where one Dr. Inga Vandergucht works, the pretty redhead that smiles at him over lunch in the mess hall.  
  
***  
  
The next day after the staff meeting John grabs his arm and waits until the rest of the staff leave the conference room. "Hey, I thought you were gonna radio me last night?"  
  
Rodney had a feeling this would happen. He swallows down an up-swelling of guilt and shrugs. "I forgot I had a date." Which is kind of true. He kept reminding himself to go talk to her, it's just that it's so busy here Rodney finds it near impossible at times to get a minute to ask.  
  
Their date was nice, too, if a little boring. They spent the evening eating MRE's on one of the south balconies and talking almost all night.  
  
John's brows shoot upwards. "With a girl?"  
  
Rodney scoffs. "Yes, with a girl. Why does everyone keep asking me that?"  
  
"Uh, no reason. I Just didn't realize you were interested in... you know ... people." John's smiling at him, but there's a line between his brows. Rodney knows it means something. He wishes he knew what.  
  
"It may surprise that sadly average brain of yours but yes, sometimes I go on dates, and sometimes I even enjoy myself. I'm pretty sure she enjoyed it too. The corresponding times she was smiling versus not smiling was about half, remove a good chunk of that time due to eating and drinking and the numbers drastically increase for smiling."  
  
"You figure out they have a good time by doing math?" John looks somewhere between amused and disturbed.  
  
"And how, pre tell, do you?"  
  
John tips his head to the side. "Well, I consider a date a success when the kissing happens." He coughs indelicately. "Or more."  
  
Rodney is quiet for a beat. "Oh ha-ha, very funny. You're a real Cassanova." He retorts and pushes past John who's trying not to laugh and failing. "I'll come over and watch the rest of the movie tonight."  
  
John nods and looks at his watch. "That works, I gotta go now anyways, I have a sparring session with Teyla and if I'm late she kicks my ass even harder than usual."  
  
"You kids have fun!" Rodney says and smiles as John trots off.  
  
***  
  
The rest of the movie is actually pretty good. Rodney and John heckle it the whole way through, mostly about the Czech voices they used.  
  
After, they have a few beers and talk about home. Rodney talks about his sister, how glad he is not to be in Siberia and his cat. Mostly about his cat. John laughs, talks about the sports games he could watch, the new cars he hasn't seen, different types of jets and choppers and the thrill he gets when he's pulling g's in a vertical climb.  
  
Rodney notices he doesn't talk about his family. In fact, every time Rodney asks him a question about it he changes the subject so subtly Rodney doesn't notice for a good couple of minutes.  
  
He wonders about that, and all the other things John doesn't tell him. Questions keep rolling around the back of Rodney's head about the guy and the boots, if John is serious about him or if it was simply a one night thing. If he has an entire committed relationship and separate life Rodney doesn't know about.  
  
It bugs him to think that Rodney's best friend has kept so much from him.  
  
Eventually John sighs. "I know you want to ask."  
  
Rodney's eyes widen. "How did you- I didn't even say anything."  
  
John's legs are crossed at the ankle, resting on the coffee table. His left foot bounces twice. "I know you, Rodney, you're always thinking about something."  
  
"I could have been thinking about something different," he argues. "Why are you suddenly ok with talking about it now?" Last time was a catastrophe and he's pretty sure neither of them want to go through that again.  
  
"Last time you caught me out of the blue," he says it like that should make perfect sense.  
  
Rodney frowns. "We're caught in all kinds of situations on missions. How does this particular one differ in any way?"  
  
John raises a single eyebrow. "McKay, when we're caught out on a mission it's usually by people who want to turn us into their food or trying to kill us. They're not usually confronting me about my sexuality or asking about who I'm spending my night's with."  
  
"Huh. Good point," Rodney concedes. It makes a strange kind of sense. It's not often John uses his last name outside of missions these days. For some reason it feels stiff and aloof, and now that John seems like talking, Rodney doesn't know how to ask all the questions that keep cropping up. It's like someone pointing at him and asking him to rattle off his three favorite foods. He blanks out every single time. "Well, um ..." Rodney clears his throat. "Are things going well between you two?"  
  
"Yeah, but you should know it doesn't happen often."  
  
"So, it's casual, then?"  
  
John nods. "It's safer that way. Getting involved can get a little dangerous. I like to keep things easy, you know? Quiet."  
  
"So quiet even I don't know?" Rodney asks then puts a hand up, "Sorry, I shouldn't have- sorry." John's quickly darkening expression eases and Rodney sighs. Why does this have to be so complicated? "What if you didn't have to hide your relationship, how would you two be then?"  
  
John looks out the window at the cloudy night. "Maybe things would be different. I can't say for sure. I mean, it's hard to look at it that way." Rodney suspects it's because John's been hiding an integral chunk of his life for a long time under very imposing rules. It would be hard to have a real, lasting relationship under those conditions.  
  
John's attention shifts back to Rodney and looks him over. He looks like he's weighing his thoughts, choosing his words. "Ok, think of it like this: You have a secret that's great, kinda... special to you. And you like someone enough to share that secret with 'em, let them become part of it. Suddenly they get a lot more special because of it." John's eyes shift to the window again and become distant. "Sometimes It can blur the senses. It takes time to figure out if they feel more important because they're part of this thing you've created or if its them that makes you feel that way."  
  
"Sounds inherently complicated," Rodney mutters.  
  
"A lot of things are complicated out there. And yeah, this might be one of them, but it's better than the alternative."  
  
"That being?"  
  
John focuses on him again, solemn and serious. "Pretending again. I don't want to do that anymore." His smile grows and the sadness hiding in the corners of his eyes is almost gone. Almost, but not quite. "If that means being alone sometimes or dodging the regs, I'm ok with that."  
  
Rodney wonders if he's getting the whole truth.  
  
***  
  
When Rodney gets home he feels wound up, restless. With everything he and john talked about, Rodney starts to think about the last time he was able to... Enjoy the company of another person, so to speak, which has been a while. In fact, it's been a long time since he's had a good release at all. His dick twitches in interest at his realization.  
  
So, after his evening ablutions and Rodney's settled in for the night, the windows are closed and the door is locked, he closes his eyes and touches on a few fantasies that usually brings him off.  
  
He tries the one with the hot blonde covered in grease that bends over his car and tells him all the little ways he could improve engine efficiency that he missed, and the sexy brunette librarian that pushes him into a supply closet to have her wicked way with him. Then, later as he starts to get annoyed and not keyed up like he was hoping, he tries the one with Sam, soaking wet, clothing sticking to her incredibly beautiful body and all she wants to do is devour him.  
  
And damn it, that's not working the way it usually does either. Rodney stops stroking himself and sighs heavily. There has to be something that will help with this tension.  
  
Rodney bites his lip and tries to think of something that will work. He's always liked hands. They're strong and agile and so very, very clever. They feel good on his skin. They feel good even when he isn't looking for release. Just the idea of someone desiring him enough to touch him, feel him, God,  _linger_  over his body...  
  
He closes his eyes, slides a hand down his chest, scratches his belly with fingernails, just enough to feel the scrape, hear the grate of nails on skin, then teases along the line of hair trailing down from his bellybutton and grips his cock. He gives it a long, slow pull. He imagines a set of hands gliding over his skin, warm and strong. They want him, they tell him so with every touch. They trace nonsensical patterns into the back of his neck, then around to his chest to fondle his nipples.  
  
He strokes himself a little faster. Rodney could drown in the feeling of being wanted like this. His other hand tweaks a nipple. His dick hardens a little more. Oh, yeah, this will definitely work.  
  
Those imaginary hands are gliding over his thighs with light, tentative fingers, almost tickling but not quite. His mind flashes to John in the jumper, flicking switches and pressing buttons to call up Atlantis. John clapping Rodney on the back, the pressure bringing comfort, the confidence in the simple touch is so John. The raindrops still beading on the back of his hands on that planet, pasting all the fine hairs flat to his skin. He has long fingers, wide palms, the pads of his fingertips are calloused with work, the nails bitten down but not too far.  
  
Suddenly those floating, disconnected, and genderless hands Rodney imagines become large and wide and warm. Working hands - a man's hands. They grip and slide over his skin possessively, like they want to own him, like they never want to stop. Rodney's hand on his cock speeds up and his hips begin to match pace with shallow thrusts.  
  
Then he imagines one of those hands sliding down his belly, along the sensitive crease between pelvis and leg, and to the crack of his ass. Rodney gasps as he imagines how it would be if those thick, clever fingers slid over that sensitive skin, pressed against him, then  _into_  him. And he has to know, has to understand-- his free hand slides over the same territory and with a low groan he slides his index finger just-- just there.  
  
He doesn't slide his fingers inside, he doesn't have lube to try with anyways. He just traces around and over the thin, wrinkled skin, gets to know the texture, the sensitive places, and every time his fingers slide fully over his hole a tingle shoots through him, making him shudder, making him moan, and now he really does want to feel those hands over him and inside him, not just some cooked up fantasy. God, he wants it so damn much. His fingers trace over a certain spot, his hips jerk up, his head tips back and he's there, shuddering and coming and groaning and  _oh god, yesssss_.  
  
It's been a while since he's come this hard. His hands are shaking for long minutes after, and he's breathing like he had to sprint for the gate. His body is so, so sensitive in the aftermath. Just doing clean up makes him break out in goosebumps.  
  
He's surprised at himself, too. He's never had a fantasy that has hit him quite this hard, or so deeply. He can feel the aftershocks still zinging under his skin. He wants to imagine that again, feel it for real. He knows deep down it's something he wants.  
  
But-- but Rodney is straight. He likes feminine hands. He likes how girls are soft and small, how they smell so nice. He likes it when they take charge, and smile and giggle. Well... mostly. Sometimes their laughter grates on his nerves. Some girls sound like a gerbil caught in a hamster wheel, or a small kid and that's a little too much for him.  
  
But he really just  _wants_  to like girls too. He wants to be accepted, he already knows he isn't very personable; he feels like sleeping with a guy would be putting another nail in Rodney's 'no people allowed' coffin. He also wants to pass on his genes and he can only do that with a woman, so he likes them and wants them, and, well, that's that.  
  
It doesn't happen very often, but every once in a while a man comes along and throws Rodney for a loop. This time, it's John, and although Rodney's a little surprised at the person his libido has chosen to swoon over, he feels confident he can kick this.  
  
He's been able to overcome this little problem of his in the past, he can do it again. He needs to find someone else to focus on, thats all. Preferably a girl someone, and eventually John will lose that magical something and go back to the friend he's supposed to be and everything can go back to normal.  
  
Rodney takes those ideas and holds them in his mind as sleep finally takes him.  
  
***  
  
He tries to flirt with the nurses the next time he ends up in the infirmary, which is two days later since Miller thought she was a brilliant engineer, wired something wrong and didn't bother telling anyone. The burns aren't too bad, all considered. The problem is the nurses are the same, not too bad, but not too great either.  
  
Rodney was hoping he would find someone in here, since he's hanging around the infirmary a lot, and on a double plus, hey, naughty nurse fantasy come true! But that's ok, Rodney reminds himself, there are beautiful women everywhere, he just needs to keep his eye out for the right one.  
  
With all his thoughts centered on starting a new relationship, he begins to calculate how long it's been since he's had one. He figures it out the day after he gets back from the infirmary. He's doing the hunt and peck thing on his laptop since he can't type like a normal person for another few days. The answer is longer than he would like to admit out loud. Then he tries to think of the longest relationship he's had and that's a much smaller number than he would prefer.  
  
People his age are supposed to handle mature, lasting relationships, marriage and kids and that white picket fence people are always striving towards. From what Rodney can remember, the majority of his don't last much past the honeymoon phase, and when they do, that version of life has never proposed itself as a possibility. He doesn't want a white picket fence. He wants climbing spires, a mote an ocean wide and enough discovery and cerebral challenge to last a lifetime.  
  
At least he has one part of his dream future figured out. All he needs is the rest and he'll be set. Rodney's loathe to admit it, but its possible he isn't the marrying type. He's known people who have lived on their own for so long it becomes part of who they are, happy to be alone. Rodney feels sad thinking about his life like that, but it is possible that maybe that's what's in store for him.  
  
He wonders suddenly that if DADT was revoked, would John be the marrying type.  
  
Rodney realizes two things: first, he shouldn't think about John in any kind of relationship terms, because he's Rodney's friend and that's just... no. Second, if he's going to think about all of his long past and frightfully short relationship's then he should at least help himself by getting a real plan to make sure his next one lasts longer than six months.  
  
He opens a new file on his laptop screen. He's going to make a plan for that if it kills him.


End file.
